


Right

by LateStarter58



Series: Theme and Variations: Tom and Livvy into the future [4]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Miscarriage, discussion of terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Livvy is waiting for Tom to come home. She was happy, but now something horrible is happening, and he doesn't know.





	Right

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was mostly inspired by a particular photoshoot with Tom, a blue E-Type Jag and the rain. It made me make Livvy love that car (I do, too, mind you) just so I could find a reason for Tom's facial expression in one particular shot...

This is hard. _Too hard_. It’s not fair. _It isn’t right._

_Nobody promised her fairness, it’s true, but surely..?_

Was having him, having Tom her _one good thing?_ Was that going to balance out everything else, for ever? Fresh pain burst inside her: No more, please, NO MORE. Not this, not today, not now.

Her phone buzzed. He was coming, on his way to her now. The week was over and he was almost home. She pulled her knees up to her chin, closed her eyes, tried to hear her music. But it just kept beating down the door.

 But now, less than an hour until Tom was due home this was happening and she knew what it was. This three-weeks-late-not-period, hurts-way-too-much-to-be-anything-else, this two-days-after-the-positive-test cramping and blood….

_A grown woman. Sitting curled up on the bed._ _Wondering if in the end, grief will always rule her life. Losinga parent, losing a baby?_

_Be strong Livvy. Tom is almost here._

A primal howl erupted from her.

………….

Tom drew up to the kerb. The smell of leather and old car was comforting; he had loved driving the E-Type, even in the rain. This plan was hatched long before her Dad’s illness had been confirmed, and a very long time before her wonderful news this week: he enjoyed searching the net, hiring a specialist to find the right one, in the right colour, in just the right condition. Her favourite classic; a special gift from her man.

She would love it, this surprise. It might not get so much use, now they will be three, that’s true. But she was still Livvy, and she loved old Jags. And then she called last night.

_Dad’s going into the St Elizabeth Hospice tomorrow. He says it’s what he wants. I think he’s doing it for Mum. It’s happening Tom, isn’t it?_

He was scared. Scared because he knew how she had been when Mike died. Scared she wouldn’t be able to cope now the end was approaching. Afraid he wouldn’t cope well himself with losing a man he had come to love and think of as a second father.

Terrified that his Livvy would fall back into her dark place and he wouldn’t be able to reach her.

So he sat in the car, watching the raindrops as they made their way – sometimes slowly and steadily, sometimes in fast bursts which blended and merged – down, down, down the window. Listening to the ticking of the cooling engine; the squeak of leather as he shifted on the seat; the rumble of the gusting wind against the door; the light pitter-patter on the shiny roof of the sleek blue car.

_A grown man. Sitting in a car in the rain. Because he is scared of what he will find if goes indoors._

He looked at his watch: he’d been there ten minutes. That was enough.

_Get a grip, Hiddleston. She needs you._

He could not have known how much.

…………..

The door was opening.

_He’s home_

A moan she couldn’t stifle erupted. Quiet, barely there, but the house was quieter, his ears questing.

He took the stairs in threes, was at her side in seconds. Her eyes shut, she sensed his closeness. Her cheek on the wool of his sweater, damp and cold from outside. It smelled of winter, of dead leaves and firesides. His heart beating fast and hard beneath it, then soft hands on her cheek, turning her face to his questioning eyebrows. She opened her eyes to look into his gentle eyes and tears brimmed over.

He watched mortified as she writhed in pain for a few seconds, her gaze drifting off to the middle distance as she felt the cramp, rode the wave.

No time for dithering. He could not stop it but he could hold her.

Swiftly to the other side of the bed, shoes off, sliding over to envelop her in his long arms, his large warm hand easing gently down onto her abdomen. He had held her before when it was bad, but this was more than just the pain. His nose nuzzling her neck, he sang softly to her, ‘their’ music.

_‘Che gelida manina…’_

Now he was with her she could let the tears fall. Tears for this lost baby, for her Dad, for the joy she had hoped the news could bring to this sad time. There would be other babies, she knew, but this one…

She felt his warmth seeping into her. The pains were receding, she would have to get up in a moment, but for now she stayed in the cradle of his arms. His love was the only thing that could help tonight. It was all she needed.

It was all she would ever need.

Everything else seemed wrong tonight, but that was right.


End file.
